Calleth you (Cometh I)
by Little-Firestar84
Summary: [Raplh/Caitlin]Caitlin has always been Ralph's dream girl, and he has always been cool knowing he would have enver had her - until one night something change and they become friends with benefits. But when things get real and feelings get messy, will they be able to handle a real relationship, or will they run away from each other?


Companion piece to "Unlikely", set in the same universe, narrating the same events, through Ralph's eyes. Mind the rating, people. Mind the rating...

* * *

Another day was through. Another mystery had been solved. Another case, closed.

As he set foot inside the foggy nightclub where team Flash was celebrating their latest victory, Ralph Dibny did his best to try to get back in his shoes – the goofy womanizer with the head in the clouds and no boundaries.

He needed it. He needed to be his "old" self to stop feeling so damn guilty all the time, ease his conscience a little. Remember why he was there even it wasn't his place. What had he done lately for his friends – his _family –_ lately, after all? Too little. And more often than he'd liked to admit, it was even too late. But life – _real_ life - was getting in his way.

Turned out he was actually as good as he remembered at his job, and he could even be a professional when he wanted to. Ralph wasn't exactly saving the world with his _real_ job – with the divorce rate at 48%, the majority of his clients were still cheated spouses looking for payback and an excuse to get a bigger alimony – but at least he could finally start to _choose_ his clients. And besides, every now and then there was the "good" case, the one that made him feel like a hero even when he wasn't wearing the suit. The cases that mattered. Where he actually got to help people out. Like when he had helped finding a missing girl, or when the elderly couple who lived in his building had been conned out of their savings and he (and Cisco) had made sure they got each and every cent back.

Still, being "Ralph Dibny, Private Eye", instead of "Ralph Dibny, Private _Dick"_ wasn't exactly easy; being a moron was far less complicated than being decent, especially if you had to live up to the example that was Barry Allen & Co and people were quicker to judge you rather than to help and encourage you.

Sighing, Ralph shook his head and tried his best to push those awful thoughts away. He didn't blame his friends if they still had some reservations about him, he had been far from a saint, but, still, he was doing his best, turning a new leaf and all that jazz, and keeping his work was _definitely_ part of this routine. Being a good friend was the next step in _The Evolution of Ralph Dibny,_ with third being finding a good girl and maybe, in time, start a family.

 _But not today, Ralph,_ he said to himself as he loosened a bit the knot of his tie, unbuttoning the fist button of his shirt. With a cheeky grin, he made his way towards his friends' table, but then, he stopped, and stared when a particular caught his attention.

They were paired up. All of them. Iris and Barry – the sweetest couple he had ever met – Cecile and Joe, with their second chance at real love working out more than fine, Oliver Queen ( aka the guy behind the mask of The Green Arrow. How people had needed for Queen himself to actually _spell it_ that he was the hero to understand who was hiding behind the hood, was still a mystery to Ralph.) and his wife, Felicity (who seemed to have shared some kind of intimacy with Barry in the past, if Barry and Iris' behavior was of any indication)… even Cisco and Sherloque "I'm not called Harry" Wells were getting quite hot and heavy with two chicks, despite multiple divorces (five wives, seven marriages) and a broken heart (he wasn't moving past step 13 of _Ralph Dibny's guide for surviving a broken heart_ ).

He huffed, his shoulders crushed down, and made his way towards the bar - eleventh wheel, he was not – when he suddenly felt a little cold, and it had nothing to do with the place or his health.

 _Well, well, weep, looks who's coming out to play…_

He chuckled, seeing the familiar brown mane sitting on a stool, and he decided to take his chances. His team wasn't noticing his absence, and apparently, the same could be said for yet another member of the team. Another _single_ member of the team.

Caitlin.

"I said I want another drink!" he whistled with deep admiration as he saw her, all fiery and _just proud_ , almost feral, facing a wonnabe hipster who was into that style probably because it was trendy but had no idea of what it truly mean (if it actually meant something. He wasn't even sure). She was hitting the counter with her closed fist, again and again and again, and the surface was actually _cracking_ under the pressure.

He stole a glance from behind her, and noticed that the counter was actually _frozen._

Well, at least now he knew why he had suddenly felt so cold, even if the club was filled to the brim with hot chicks showing _a lot_ of skin.

Caitlin was using her recently resurfaced powers to scare the hell out of the poor guy, and if the way the bartender was trembling and stuttering was of any indication, well, it was working - maybe even a little too much.

He glanced back to his team-mates, and when he saw that no, no one was paying attention to Caitlin, he sighed, almost in disbelief. Apparently, with the team being busy with love, and Caitlin out of commission due to inebriation, it was up to him to be the adult of the situation.

 _Great, like I already don't do that enough during the day… well, I did say I wanted to be respected, right? And like the old saying goes… Fake it 'till you make it._

When he saw Caitlin throwing her car keys at the bartender – who wasn't moving from his spot against the wall, still trembling like a frightened pup – he intercepted them mid-air, and went to slouch off next to the young woman, and motioned the bartender to stop behaving like a five years old who had never set foot in Central City, World's Meta-humans Capitol., and start paying attention to his costumers.

"Relax, pal, I'm gonna drive the lady home – you want to get her one more drink, don't be shy! By the way, Caity, what are _we_ having?" He smiled at Caitlin, trying to see if he could understand what had filled her glass up until a few minutes before, but there was nothing left that could help him deduce what was her poison of choice.

"The lady's having Sex on the beach." The bartended groaned, giving the lad a mason jar filled with red liquid, trying to keep his distance as much as possible. He was scared of her, and she was playing her role. It was kind of satisfying. It was a good look on her. It was almost as, for a moment, Caitlin was in peace, her two personalities finally melting into one single persona.

She looked like a goddess.

She _was_ a goddess. At least, in his eyes.

She drank the amber liquid, and Ralph could see her swallowing with gusto, followed a drop of alcohol that had escaped her perfect, red-lacquered mouth and was running down the column of her ivory neck, trying to find peace in the soft valley between her breasts.

He swallowed, hard, groaning, and hating himself. It was Caitlin, and he was trying to be a good person. A decent human being. She had always been nice and good with him. She deserved more than… than being lusted after. So much more.

And… he didn't know what he could provide. Especially to a girl like her.

Their eyes met as she turned on her stool, and looked at him with a light he had never seen before. She chuckled, eating him up as he was candy – or maybe meat. Or chocolate, and Ralph didn't know if he was supposed to feel insulted or flattered. He just knew it was rather uncomfortable, and that he would have never looked at a woman like that ever again in his whole life.

"What?" He asked, his voice rough and low. He didn't even know if she had heard him. Hell, he had barely heard himself, on top of the cacophony of loud and tasteless music that was filling the room.

Caitlin chuckled, and sighed, as she was content, and looked at him, a little dreamily, and _smiled._ "You know Ralph, this shirt… and the tie…" She said, taking the small (and pricey) piece of fabric between two fingers, basically killing him on the spot. "You really don't look half bad like this. You are… rather hot."

 _What did that Katy Perry song say? Cause I'm hot and cold….no, wait, it's cause_ you are _hot and_ you are _cold_ ….

"Sex on the beach! Such a nice name! A great name for a drink, but not my cup of tea! Not that I like tea. Whiskey. As in, I want one, now. Neat." He said in one breath. He was starting to make some confusion, feel a little… uneasy, probably because he was feeling rather hot and cold himself. Cold because Caitlin's fingers were still oozing cold and icy fog, and hot because Caitlin was touching him.

Caitlin Snow, his most secret love fantasy, the one he dreamed of making _love_ to under starry nights, was actually touching _him._ And if her dreamy expression meant something, it was that she liked it. She… wanted it.

Who knew- maybe he did have a chance with her. Maybe chancing and behaving, all the hard work, were finally paying and he was being rewarded by finally being at the receiving end of her… dared he say _affection_?

He sighed, not sure if in relief or disappointment, when she finally let it go of him, and shaking his head, willing himself to just _no_ go there, where he knew he had no chances in real life, he swallowed the burning liquid at once.

At his side, Caitlin _sighed,_ dreamily, leaning her chin on her joined hands, her elbows on the bar, continuing his torture, letting out a guttural sound that seemed _a lot,_ to his ears, like a moan and made him think about things he had no reason to be even just _consider,_ brought to his frontal cortex ( _See, I can pay attention, too!)_ rather hot and explicit images of his good friend Caitlin, making those same sounds in other very different, much more private and intimate, situations.

As his blood rushed south, he willed himself to just _control_ himself, think about puppies and rainbows and _work, work, work_ and maybe old ladies, all the while repeating his newfound mantra, _Stop imagining her naked. She is a friend. You can be a decent human being when you want,_ again and again and again.

Maybe just another one or two times, for good measure.

"Caitlin… is there… something wrong with you? I mean… are you all right?" He asked, quizzically lifting an eyebrow in her direction.

"You know Ralph, I mean it. You _really_ aren't so bad. Actually…" She chuckled, as her eyes fell on his shirt-covered abs, something that Ralph was all too aware of, and it made him swallow. Blood was again doing the opposite of what he wanted, and this time, he was frankly starting to have some problems controlling himself. Caitlin wasn't helping. If nothing, he was ten seconds from jumping her and just _devour_ those crimson lips.

(How he could even just have thought that Killer Frost was hotter, sexier than Caitlin, it was still a mystery to him. He had been an idiot. Yep. Definitely an idiot.)

"I mean, you are no Oliver Queen, because, hello? No one's like him, like, at all, because the man is a freaking God, and you are _definitely_ nothing like my husband, but, you're… kind of cute, in your way. And when you don't try so hard to be an idiot, you are… half-decent, I guess? Not decent in a moral kind of way, because I think you are decent in a moral kind of way, because yeah, all right, Barry says you planted evidence, but, I don't think you did it for some awful reason or because you wanted to look good. It's just that, let's be honest, Barry's kind of…. What's the saying? Ugh. I don't remember. He… he puts himself on a…. pedrestal…no, pedestral… wait, I got it, _pedestal!_ He puts himself on this pedestal and he looks down on us poor mortals. Well, not everyone, actually, because Oliver and Felicity and freaking Iris are oh so perfect and could do never do anything wrong, like, at all. Especially Oliver. I think someone should tell Iris they probably have a thing going."

Ralph sighed in relief. Now, that was a mood-killer. It wasn't just the borderline drunk, very tipsy, out of breath speech – he had never fallen so low to get advantage of a drunken girl, after all – but it was the rest.

The fact that he was _"cute",_ a word men world-wide _hated_ and knew placed them in the friend-zone for the rest of their lives.

That she had remembered him that he was supposed to show Barry that he wasn't so bad, and he could be a decent human being when he wanted to, both as Ralph and Elongated Man.

And then, there was what _really_ told him that he'd never had a fighting chance with Caitlin, that his dreams better stayed just that, dreams, andthat he had to start seeing things for what they were – he wasn't worth her.

She had played the dead husband card. Compared the both of them. Saying he was nothing like the hero who had sacrificed his life to save the city – and maybe, just maybe, even the world. Their whole reality.

"Eh, I guess I should get you drunk more often, Caity. I mean, you've complimented me more in two minutes of drunken ramblings than in two years put together." Without being asked nor asking, he paid for his and her drinks – it was so nice to finally be able to pay for his own things- and, as he stood up, he patted Caitlin on the shoulder. "C'mon, pretty girl, I'm driving you home."

"Mm… Caity… I kind of like it, even if this is how _she_ calls me. Also pretty girl. Just don't call me pretty woman, though. I _hate_ that movie." He helped her standing up, and he got worried when he saw that her legs were trembling a little. It seemed she was a little bit more drunk then what he had previously believed, and his heart clenched in pain for her. It wasn't hard to guess what was troubling her: all their friends were getting their happily ever after, or at least looking for love, while she hadn't even been able to _bury_ the love of her life.

They took a few steps towards the exit, Caitlin holding on to him, her hands around his biceps, before she tripped over herself, and almost fell on the floor. Ralph smiled of a little sad smile, and, knowing she was too far gone – especially on those heels – to even just think about taking the stairs, he did the only thing he could think of.

He picked her up. Bridal style.

Frankly, he expected her to pick up a fight. Say something offensive. Kick him in the balls. But nothing of the sort happened.

She _smiled,_ snuggling against his chest, and sighed content as she stared into his eyes. Ralph stood there for longer than it was respectable, staring at her in silence, almost in disbelief, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat. He held her with all of his strength, forgetting everything and everyone around them, concentrating only on her breathing, he sighs, her rosy cheeks, the way her arms had gone around his neck, on her delicate fingers playing carelessly with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Did you just sigh?" He asked, half-serious. He needed to get himself back together, and breaking the ice, joking a little was the only thing he could do in that moment, if he didn't want to do something utterly stupid.

She nodded, and looked at him in a way Ralph didn't like one tiny bit. She was giving him ideas. And he didn't want to get ideas where his team-mates were concerned. Especially Caitlin, who was so out of his league.

"I like the way you smell. It's very… manly." She sighed again, her lips so close to his pulse-point Ralph was scared that his heart would leap out of his chest. Or she would notice, and remember the next day, what kind of effect she had on him.

"Ehy Ralph, by the way, do you really have a car? And if you do, is it just a piece of garbage? I need to know, pretty please with cherry on top, because I really, really don't like pieces of garbage." She rambled on.

"Yep. Apparently, when you clean your act up and you start to act and to dress like a decent detective, you start to _actually believe_ that you are good at your job, so much so that even people start believing it… and you get clients! And they even _recommend you_ to their acquaintances!"

"Wow, I can't believe it. You actually know the word acquaintance!" She mocked him, sounding more like Cisco than herself.

"Five minutes ago you couldn't spell the word pedestal, honey- I wouldn't mock my dictionary, if I were you."

"Right. You are the designed driver. Sorry. I will stop it in two, three, one. Okay, I'm done! Bring me home?"

Ralph shook his head, and sighed. "Eh, the words that every man wants to hear. And only drunk girls say them to me."

He looked down at Caitlin, half-asleep in his arms. Something that he would have never thought possible until that very evening. Something that would have haunted him for days, if not weeks. Dreams he had no reason having at all.

Because, as she had just said, he was just her driver – and no match to the holy trinity, Ronnie, Oliver and Barry.

* * *

When they got to her apartment, Ralph was pleased to see that the almost half an hour trip had sobered her up a bit, which meant that she hadn't been so drunk to begin with.

Of course, what didn't please him was her greenish color, and a look that screamed _headache_ a mile away.

"Ralph, I don't need you to babysit me." She groaned as he turned on the lights, just to lower them immediately afterwards, when he saw Caitlin closing her eyes as the light was suddenly disturbing her.

"Right." He bit his lips, and, hands in the pockets of his pants, he started to look around a little. He liked her apartment. He really did. It looked just like her, modern, with a classic edge, and practical – no useless trinkets getting dusty on the shelves for Caitlin Snow. She was a woman who appreciated the memories, what she held in her mind and her heart, not the objects, like women - like Iris, Cecile, his mother – often did. "It's really a nice place. I like it."

"Thanks. You want a glass water? I think that…Ugh. What did they put on that drink?" She asked, more to herself than him. Ralph chuckled, and scratched the back of his head as he stared at Caitlin, sniffing her t-shirt.

Her wet t-shirt - her wet and almost transparent t-shirt.

He swallowed hard, blushing, then he hurried in her kitchen, and stopped her before she could take another step.

"Ok, you know what? Why don't you take a shower and I'll get you ready your tall glass of water, uh? Just, be careful not to slip."

Strangely enough, she didn't fight him. She just nodded her agreement, murmured a thank you, and followed his advice.

Which, in Ralph's book, was very, very good. He was going to have all the time to recompose himself. remember he was a decent human being. Get her that glass of water and get the hell away out of her apartment before he could do something utterly stupid like trying to kiss her, or even just… even just touch her.

And then, he heard it, from the room next door. The sound of running water. Of her shower. And in that moment, the realization of what he had just suggested to Caitlin hit him, hard, like a brick wall.

Caitlin was under the hot shower spray. Naked. Rubbing bubbly, lemon-scented shower gel on her naked body.

(Because _of course_ he knew what she usually smelled like – an heavenly mix of lemon and lavender.)

XXX Rated fantasies of her, naked under the spray, started to haunt him, and it was a matter of seconds before he'd imagined joining her, their naked bodies intertwined as he mercilessly possessed her and she just moaned, begging him, _harder, much… give me more…_

He slapped himself, twice, and when he felt himself harden, he thought again about grannies and puppies. To no avail. The shower was still running, Caitlin was still naked, and he still wanted her. Badly.

He huffed and puffed, starting going through her fridge and her cupboards looking for a remedy for a quasi-hangover.

Bread and spreadable cheese, with some toppings to just make it more edible. A tall glass, with half juice and half water.

His old recipe, from back when he had been kicked out of the force and became a failure, a sorry excuse for a human being.

He hated wondering into the past, remembering the kind of man he had been in what felt like another life. And in a way, it had been. Ralph Dibny 1.0, pre Elongated Man, before he went on that bus and DeVoe and his tinkering would change his whole life forever and ever. He was still the same. And yet, so different.

The shower was still running. She was taking her sweet time.

Groaning, he closed the steely door of the fridge, and like the sane man he was, he did the only reasonable thing to do when you tell your crush to go and take a shower in your presence.

He started to hit the fridge door. Hard. Again and again and again. With his head.

So much so that he didn't even heard the shower stopping, didn't hear Caitlin joining him in the room. He noticed her presence only when she awkwardly cleared her throat to get his attention.

"Are you all right?" She tentatively asked him.

"Yes! Yes! Absolutely! I just.. prepared you something! " He quickly- too quickly – answered her, his back flat against the cold fridge.

She took a few steps towards him, looking worried, but then her eyes fell on the banquet he had prepared for her, and she smiled. "Oh, Ralph, thanks! You didn't have to!"

He just shrugged, like it was nothing, and scratched his ear. "Crackers with a little spreadable cheese and crushed herbs and spices to make them more appealing, and a glass of half juice, half water. It's a tested remedy for this pre-hangover of yours. Well, at least it used to work on me." He cleared his voice. "Anyway, bon apetite and I'll see you when I'll see you!"

As he clasped his hands together, feeling himself burn with the images still running through his mind, he saw Caitlin getting more and more worried. She took the few steps that were separating them, and went on tip-toes, one hand on his forehead, the other on hers.

"Maybe you're running a fever? I don't really like your color… just let me check this once…"

"What? No, no, no fever at all. It's just hot… WARM! It's just warm here! You should really talk with your landlord about lowering the temperature! Better for you, better for the environment, better for everyone…." He said in one breath, swallowing hard. He just couldn't stay so close to her, not after imagined her naked, not when he was still hard with desire for her.

"Ralph? Stay still!" She commanded him with a stern tone, eyes in the eyes. He knew she meant business, and, swallowing, he nodded his consent. Unfortunately, in doing so, he also lowered his eyes, and he started to notice all kinds of things.

Her petite feet, naked, with nails painted pale pink, just a couple of shades darker then her natural color.

How the sweater seemed to embrace her forms, and the way the neckline seemed to suggest what it was hiding. His eyes fell on the valley between her breasts, and he became painfully aware of the fact that she wasn't wearing any kind of… of corsetry.

There was a bra-less woman just inches from him. And she was checking his temperature. With her hands. Her warm, soft hands. And it was _Caitlin._ And she… she had known he was still there when she got dressed, right?

Ralph closed his eyes and sighed out loud, swallowing hard. He closed his hands in thigh fists at his sides, willing himself to leave her place at once. It was wrong, and dangerous, and just painful. She deserved more, she would have never go for someone like him anyway, he had never been so lucky in his life.

"Ralph….?" She whispered his name, as it was a plea, her hands suddenly going to his shirt, fisting the burgundy material in her small hands. Staring at him with something Ralph couldn't exactly pin-point, Caitlin _lunged_ at him, and she kissed him. Her lips were fierce, while he tensed, frozen with shock. Ralph pushed Caitlin away a little, grabbing her for the shoulders, and blinked. And blinked.

Then, he blinked some more.

"Oh my God, Ralph, I don't know what came over me, I'm so sorry, I really don't…" but her explanation, her excuses, were cut short, as Ralph returned the "aggression", his hands pulling her towards him, hers going immediately into his short hair, tugging at it harder than necessary, and he absolutely adored it, making him purr against her lips in pure bliss. He was trembling with emotions, with disbelief, so much so that he was tripping over himself, stumbling over the smiling Caitlin as she kept kissing him.

Needing to breath, she gently pushed Ralph away, putting some distance between them, and she stared at him. He couldn't stop looking into those green pools, couldn't stop drinking her in. He wanted to kiss her again. Wanted to hold her in his arms. Wanted to see if reality was as good as his dreams.

He wanted her. And that was final.

"Caitlin, why…." But she shook her head, and put her right index on his lips, shushing him. He closed his eyes, as in bliss, and reverently kissed her fingertips, moaning as he was tasting the most exquisite food on the whole planet, his senses filled with just _her,_ nothing else mattered.

Caitlin laughed – a laugh so real, so alive and that made her so radiant and happy that it melt his heart, made him… fall for her even more – and he grabbed him for the tie, guiding him towards her room in the semi-darkness of the apartment.

"Caitlin, I don't think…" He went to say, but she pulled him for the small piece of fabric, making their lips collide once more, this time just in a quick peck. Chuckling, she let it go of him, and, walking backwards to her room, she grabbed the hem of her sweater, and lifted the soft wool over her head, leaving her torso naked to his sight.

She was even more beautiful that he had ever dared to imagine.

Ralph swallowed, chained to the spot, his eyes fixed on her semi- naked form. Pert rosy nipples dotted her breasts, perfectly shaped – natural, not the silicon monsters he had too often admired in seedy XXX rated films. He filled his sight – she filled _him –_ and Ralph couldn't take his eyes away from her. It wasn't her state of undress: he wanted her to know how he saw her – how beautiful she was in his eyes.

He reached for her, rolling the nipples between his fingers, and his mouth went back to her, in a kiss that was the opposite of what she had previously initiated – slow, sweet, filled with promises. Too many of them, maybe.

She moaned, and he parted. "Caitlin…." He whispered her name, a prayer, his voice desperate and far away even to his own ears, and he felt her shiver at his touch, moan shamelessly as he rubbed his sex against her clothed legs..

He gasped. He couldn't believe it. It was too good to be true. He couldn't be this lucky. She didn't know what she was doing. He didn't want to take advantage of her. He could walk away and forget any of this ever happened.

But none of this ever left his lips.

It was just her name, _Caitlin, Caitlin, Caitlin…_ a breathless chant, an endless prayer.

She kissed him, tenderly, reverently. And, without parting from him, she guided him to her bed.

"Caitlin, we don't…" He tried to say one last time, but she shushed him, and she started unbuttoning his shirt, untying his tie, and made the fabric – all of it, jacket shirt tie – fall on the floor in one swift movement, her lips pressing hard against his pulse point.

She laughed softly when she went for his pants, and he stood still swallowing hard as he was a nerdy youngster having his first time with a girl.

"You know Ralph, I'm feeling like I'm taking advantage of you here. Is this what is happening?"

He laughed - and they laughed together – as he lowered her sweatpants, leaving to his hungry eyes the sight of her naked sex. She was just… perfect. Smooth. Swollen, glistening with pure and unaltered desire.

For him. She wanted him. Ralph Dibny.

"You waiting for an invitation, Dibny?" She sassily demanded as she went to seat on her bed, crossing her legs; she wasn't really looking at him, she was going through her nightstand, when he stopped her.

"Got it covered, sweetheart." He chuckled as he took a few silver packets from his pants. He kept one in his hands, threw the others at her.

"Do you really need that many?" She looked quizzically at him. Then, it hit her. "Oh! Creative use of super-powers?"

His pants and boxers around his ankles, Ralph actually _blushed._

"Don't worry. I can get creative, too." She was leaning on her elbows, back on the pillows, and looked at him licking her lips, one hand lazily skimming over sex, the other was producing tiny snow crystals in the air, lowering the temperature.

He swallowed, hard, unable to look past her sex.

He lowered himself on the bed, and kissed her, starting from her toes, until he reached her sex, and mercilessly possessed her with hi clever tongue, eyes closed in bliss. She was scratching his back, his head, softly moaning his name. One of Ralph's hands went to her breasts, and he started to pull on her nipples, tugging at them gently as his left thumb went to caress her lips, and Caitlin lost no time into licking it, sucking it with her plump lips, smearing what little was left of her lipstick on his skin.

He pressed against her clit with the flat of his tongue, and she just screamed, eyes wide open as she came undone underneath him, filling his mouth with her sweet nectar – she tasted like honey. He pumped himself against her leg, and followed her into orgasmic bliss, emoting himself on her smooth skin.

"Oh, crap, I'm so sorry, I didn't think I wouldn't have lasted so short but I think…"

But she didn't gave him time to end the sentence, she just reached out for him, and crashed her lips against his.

They rolled onto the bed as she tasted herself on his lips, feeling his cock swelling against her belly.

"Ready for round two already?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow.

He gave her a peck on the lips, and grinned. "Creative use of super-powers, baby."

* * *

Caitlin's bed was the softest thing he had ever slept on in his whole life, the prefect mattress, the soft pillows and the delicate sheets… and yet, Ralph just _couldn't_ sleep.

He kept feeling her, at side, turning, and huffing, and pretending she wasn't doing anything of the sort. He even felt her the moment she stilled, pretending to be relaxed, deep asleep and that everything was perfectly fine and okay.

He knew it was impossible, but he swore he could feel the heels turning inside her head. He could hear her thinking, so much so that it was starting to give him an headache the size of the Chrysler building.

Well, either it was her thinking, or maybe it was the whisky he had had the previous evening…

He sighed, aware that sleep would have eluded him for the time being, resigned to stop pretending to not be fully awake yet, and aware of her musing. He turned on his side, leaning on his elbow, and smiled at her. "You are keeping me awake with your whole thinking thing, Caity. By the way, good morning, Gorgeous."

He thought about signing the last word with a kiss – deep and intense and dirty and all tongue, just like the night before, a prelude to very good things to come – but the way she was looking at him, like a frightened animal, immediately cooled his spirits.

"Hi, Ralph." He could actually see her swallow, and Ralph sighed.

She was frightened – sort of.

She was doing her best to not meet his eyes.

She was swallowing and keeping in silence – a seemingly endless silence, to be more precise.

She was hogging the covers to hide her nudity to his gaze.

She hadn't had a good night's sleep.

Ralph clenched his teeth. Apparently, it was time to ask Cisco back the _Ralph Dibny's guide to survive a broken heart._

He scratched his head, and said what she was expecting him to, played his part. "It's ok, Caitlin, I understand. It was just… a thoughtless, drunken moment of…."

"Stupidity?" She finished for him, looking all too relieved for his own taste. He did his best to not look at him, and sighed, as tired as never before. He composed himself, pretending he agreed, that he thought she was right.

"Look, Caitlin, you were a little drunk, I was a little inebriated myself, you were upset, I was there, and it happened. We are adults, and we are friends, and we can deal with it in an adult kind of way. It's… sex, between friends, but, Caitlin, it doesn't have to mean the world."

She sighed and smiled. In relief. And Ralph was quite sure he heard his heart doing something in his chest. Pain – so, what was that? Heartburn? An heart attack? A _broken heart?_

"Okay, just so that we are clear, we can't let it happen, ever again." She said with finality. "We work together, and we've got a lot of friends, and I think it would be so awkward. You understand what I mean, right?"

He lowered his eyes, focusing his gaze on a crease of the sheets, and stood in silence, trying to find the right words, not sure there were any. She regretted what had happened, regretted him. He hadn't meant anything to her. She just needed someone to take the pain and the loneliness away. Anyone would have done – he was just… a commodity.

"Oh, Ralph…" She whispered his name. With Pity. And something snapped in him.

He hated pity, hated the way people had always looked at him – the fatherless kid with hand-me-downs, with the mum working the odd jobs to get to the end of the month, the man kicked out of the Force, the failing Private Eye.

The guy who wanted the girl who would have never, ever had. The guy who thought sex meant more than just a mere physical connection – of the need to just _come_ because of another body and not just her touch.

He steadied his walls. Went back to his usual self. Wore the mask of careless idiot chasing any skirt he could think of.

Because, after all, it was what she was expecting of him, right?

"No, no, that's ok. Nothing new. I understand, and I agree, and I can assure that we will never ever sleep together again. It was just a one night stand and we'll not talk about it ever again."

"Do you want maybe… breakfast? Or… take a shower…"

Ralph stilled, tense. He almost turned to look at her in disbelief, or read Caitlin the riot act. She had just told him she didn't want to sleep with him again. Expressed her desire to turn what had happened between them into just a one night stand. Said, practically, she more or less considered what had transpired between them just the night before either a mistake or a regret (frankly, he didn't know what could be worse).

And yet, here she went, offering breakfast, and showers and chats, and what was next, a stroll in the park? Ice-cream?

She wasn't interested in a boyfriend – not him, at least, _nothing like Oliver, nothing like, mostly, Ronnie –_ and yet she was suggesting activities that looked like… boyfriend/girlfriend material. Not his cup of tea. And not for his own choice.

"Hum, listen, Caitlin…" he scratched the back of his head, still not able to look at her. He decided to go with her full name, instead of the nickname he had forged just the night before. Caity was too intimate, it was for the feral creature that had grabbed him for the chin, her nails leaving half-moon marks on his skin, assuring him that yes, she knew what she was doing and that yes, she was sure she wanted to sleep with him. "Could you just… go back to sleep, or.. leave the bed? Walks of shame are not really my thing, so…"

She nodded, and pretended to go back to sleep. It wasn't perfect, but it was enough. He couldn't bear looking at her. Couldn't bear to see any more pity, as he felt a loser as never before.

He got dressed and left, because he knew there was nothing else to do. Even if he spoke now, she would have never listened to him anyway.

 _Time to be a stereotypical man, and thanks the Heavens for a good lye_ , Ralph thought to himself as he left her building.

And yet, it felt he had just been cursed.

To have and to hold, but for one time, and for one time only. And to forever live with the memory of what he just couldn't have.

* * *

Whoever had invented the saying fake until you make it was an idiot. Because faking was really, really hard.

Ralph's days after the night of passion with Caitlin were pure hell. There was something coming up at STAR Labs, and Barry would always ask for his help, or give him small cases to work on.

She was always there, right before his eyes, and he had to go and pretend that nothing had ever happened, that he was still his old, usual jerk-ish self and he didn't give a damn about everything. He had to smile and laugh and joke, but, if Sherloque's knowing grin was of any indication, there was at least one member of the team not buying it.

Well, two actually – because Caitlin knew that something was wrong with him. She was the one who knew him best, after all. And she was the one who cared the most about him in their team. Yeah, Barry cared, and they were… friends, but the speedster was a little oblivious, a little _slow,_ when it came to other people's love-life, he and Iris (and Joe) didn't have that kind of relationship where you would just go and spill your gut, and Cisco, well, he was Cisco, and thought that Ralph was just a maniac and a sexual pervert.

Besides, Cisco was the one with the issues. He needed to move past Gypsy, and being stuck on step 13 for _months_ wasn't a good sign. At all.

That was why they were having drinks. And hoping to finally – _finally! –_ get a girl to sleep with Cisco. Or Cisco to sleep with a girl. Preferably, one who didn't just look like Lisa "Golden Glider" Snart.

If he was lucky, he would have been able to hook up with a hot chick too. If Caitlin expected him to not care about sex, why would he try to prove her wrong, after all? Getting back to his womanizing ways, to a new faceless, nameless girl every night for a quickie was just what he needed to stop _caring_ so damn much. Stop hurting. Stop remembering how soft her skin was. The way she sounded when he was deep inside her, feeling her wet hotness surrounding him. How she chanted his name as she begged for more, harder, when he came undone under his fingers or his tongue.

He whimpered, barely restating hitting his head against the wall.

He wasn't in the mood for one night stands. He needed something to stop… whatever he was feeling in that moment.

 _Maybe they need help in Star City. I should really ask Felicity. C'mon, her friend with the weird mask was eating me up, I bet he'd be thrilled to have me on the team! I need to move, right, now! Need to stop seeing her every damn time I take a single step in this damn building!_

He had just resigned himself to a leave of absence to lick his wounds, when she broke into the room like a fury. There was a light and a fire in her eyes that made him forget everything, made him think that all he wanted from life was to get her, there and then, on the floor of the lounge, the hell with whoever was around.

The breath died in his throat.

She wanted him. She still wanted him – and she was done pretending.

"I have a new lead I need to follow immediately on my dad's death certificate." She calmly stated, with a tone that showed that she wouldn't have accepted any form of contradictory. It was her will, and so be it.

"Can't it really wait until tomorrow?" He said, pretending to believe her excuse – mostly for Sherloque's sake. "I mean, Cisco _really_ needs help mending his broken heart, and I kind of have to celebrate too. Wells here said something about my _good detective skills_ that sounded _a lot_ like a compliment."

"No, it can't." She simply stated, still staring into his eyes with determination, her pupils dilated, her breath short..

Ralph sighed, faking resignation, hands in the pockets of his pants. "Okay, fine." He rolled his eyes, then made a gesture with his chin in direction of the latest version of Harrison Wells that had graced Team Flash with his witty presence, and followed her.

He narrowed his eyes, chuckling a little, when he saw her stopping right before an utility closest, far away from any room they were used to use at STAR Labs. With a wide grin, she opened the door, and grabbing him for the lapels of his jacket – _that's so hot! –_ she dragged him in the tiny space with her.

His hands went immediately to her hips, holding her steady against his body. "You know, I have the feeling that this has nothing to do with your dad." He sighed, breathless, searching her with his eyes, feeling her body quivering under his needy touch.

God, he had missed her. Missed this. How had he gone over one week without having her naked in his arms, without the touch of her kisses?

"Ralph, just shut up." She smiled, and it was a sight for sore eyes.

He met her halfway. His hands tangled in Caitlin's hair, hers clawed at his, and they kissed, almost violently, so much so that Caitlin soon ended up with her back slammed against the wall. He grabbed her left leg, lifted it and linked it around his side, her heel planted on his back, and he positioned himself between her legs. Painting, he started to rub himself against her clothed body, driven crazy by the friction, by the way she was mirroring his movements, wanting it, _him,_ as much as he did.

She moaned, gasped against his lips. She was tilting her head back almost all the way to meet his kiss. His lips pressed hard against hers, and Caitlin explored his arms, his shoulders, his neck, with her soft hands, arousing him furthermore.

He was pretty sure he was _seconds_ away from orgasmic bliss.

"Slow down, slow down, please, pleases please just slow down a minute…" He chanted, breathless. He couldn't feel his heart any longer, it was beating just too fast and he was pretty sure he was starting to see black.

It was too much. It was just too much, and if they didn't stop now, he would have come in his pants and made a fool out of himself.

As breathless as he was, she pulled away in the semi-darkness of the stale room.

"Your place. In one hour."

She slipped out of the closet, while he waited few minutes to recompose himself, think about grandmothers and puppies and crime scenes, hoping that his hard-on would suddenly vanish.

Even if he knew that, in one hour, he would have had her once again.

His Dream Girl.

* * *

The next morning, he went back to STAR Labs with his mind filled with ideas. He had slept like a log, and even if he had hated the fact that she hadn't spent the night, well, at least there had been no awkwardness, nor regrets. She had laughed and smiled and been just plain happy and chuckled every time he had said the word Caity.

 _And_ she hadn't said she was contrary to repeat performances.

He was in such a good mood he was even having ideas for cases. Her dad's mystery on top of that.

"Crazy idea. Since your mum is a dead end and Cisco isn't vibing anything new, I think we should really take into consideration doing this the old fashioned way. I know we could always ask Joe, but I kind of still have people who owe me in the Force. I say, let's call them and see if maybe…"

She didn't even gave him the time to end the sentence. She sighed in relief, and _jumped_ at him, kissing him with the same need as the night in her apartment.

She parted from him, grinning, filled with apparent pride at the sight of Ralph at loss for words.

"Okay. So… would you rather talk about… this?" He asked, tentatively, a little bit in disbelief.

"I think we shouldn't talk at all." She stated, signing her thought with a quick peck on his lips, her tiny fists closed around the lapels of his jacket, doing her best to get rid of his clothes as quickly as possible.

"Right." He nodded, swallowed hard as she was already reaching for his trousers, his shirt already undone but still on – _hot, hot, hot… "_ Uh, so that we are clear…. Do you want to have sex? Here?"

She stopped, and, crossing her arms over her chest – which just aroused him more, because her breasts looked even bigger, fuller, and more delicious like that – as she lifted an eyebrow. "Why, you have something against it?"

Ralph nervously laughed. "Uh, I'm a man in my prime, and you are a very hot girl, uh, wanting to have sex with me. So, no, I really don't have anything against it. It's just…"

"What?" She hissed between clenched teeth.

He cleared his throat. "Well, this is your office, and you work here, and there are our… friends around, and…. It's just…" He paused, and this time Caitlin just gave him a look to convince him to move on with his musing. "I… we… we had a lot of… uh, sex last night, and last time you, uh, didn't talk with me for a whole week. And I was wondering…"

"What, if I was going to go another week without talking with you?"

"Uh, no. More like, why you, ah, want to have sex with me again after, uh, such a short time."

Caitlin chuckled, and slowly, painfully so, in silence, she took off first her sweater, next her skirt, remaining in just lacy pale pink lingerie and heels.

Ralph swallowed.

And a second later he was devouring her.

* * *

Caitlin didn't know how to play pool.

He wasn't sure why, but Ralph founded this fact quite interesting, and decided that he just _had_ to teach her. Back when he was in the Force, he and his co-workers had liked to go to Riley's, a sport bar near his old precinct, when they were done with a case. After the Particle Accelerator Explosion, the bar had closed, and was still rotting there, letting punks squat where once pictures of Central City's Finest were proudly hangings on its walls.

During his first year, when he was just another rookie, a beat cop, Ralph had taken a bullet for his partner, a family man who was about to retire.

His picture had been there, too. For years. Girl saw the picture, saw him, and they were head over heels in love with him. Other cops offered him drinks. Cheered him up. Until he did the unthinkable – the fabricated evidence, the perjury, the end of his career. They had taken off the framed image, and it had taken him years to accept it. Understand why they had to. He knew that Caitlin kept saying good things – they eh had done what he had for a good reason, because a bad man was getting away with murder – but nowadays, it felt like a huge weight on his shoulders.

One day, months before, he had found himself right before the old club, and he had ventured inside. No one was there in that hour of the morning, and what had caught his attention was the old pool table, where he had played so many games back when he was a beat cop – a _decent_ cop. He had taken it home, had it restored, and found a place in his apartment for the relic.

And now, he was about to teach _his_ Caitlin to play pool.

His Caitlin – it held a marvelous, incredible sound, and he could barely believe she was his. He knew it was too good to be true, to last, and that one day, she would have found someone else, someone better, but for now, it was enough. He got to held her in his arms, to help her overcoming her problems, and they were taking huge steps into finding her father.

Maybe it was what she was thinking about right now, as she was looking outside his windows, lost in her own thoughts.

"Caity? Thinking about something nice? Maybe little old me?"

She shook her head and laughed, giving her a smile that would have enlightened a whole room, and that shattered his heart each and every time she smiled at him.

Because when she smiled like that, he could dream that she actually cared. That she too felt something for him.

"Shout up, Ralph, and teach me how to play pool." She shushed him, elbowing him on the side, as she tried to get in position – and getting it wrong. Again.

He tsk-tsked her. "Ah, forget it. You are a lost cause. But, I still think we can put the table to good use…"

She turned to face him, and Ralph lost no time in laying his hands on her hips; he lifted her sweater, getting the skin-on-skin contact he craved so much, and he went for the kill, his lips landing on her in a hard smack.

Before she could know it, she was on her back, on the pool table, her skirt rolled up to her waist and Ralph was on top of her, his knees at her sides, his lips convulsively kissing and nipping at every inch of skin he could land his lips on, his hands playing with her breasts, rubbing the hard nipples while Caitlin caressed his hard desire through the rough fabric of his jeans with one hand, trying to get his sex out, the other hand pulling at his hair in that heavenly way he liked so much. He reached for sex, putting the fabric of her silky panties aside, and he stroked her, feeling her already wet and ready for him.

He grinned against her neck as he pumped two fingers in and out of her, with a steady and merciless rhythm, his other hand still playing with her nipples. In a matter of few minutes, she came undone, gasping for hair.

"Liked that, uh?" He asked, almost as breathless as she was.

She laughed, said her usual "Shout up, Ralph", and then kissed him.

* * *

He and Caitlin weren't exactly on speaking terms, not after he had "flirted" with a girl to get her to talk with them and give away as many pieces of information as she could.

And, frankly, he had only done so because she had flirted first. And because Barry and Joe had given him "the look", as to say that, if she was, for some unknown reason, into him, he was supposed to use it at his own advantage.

But Caitlin had seen it all. And even if she knew he was into her, that he wasn't seeing anyone else (nor he wanted to), even if she knew it was just an act, she was still giving him the cold shoulders.

In the past, he had gone months without sex.

Now, two days without her touch, two days of her glaring at him, and he felt like he was going crazy.

The fact that on this last meta crime scene there were _kids_ murdered didn't help. He was on edge enough as it was, but thinking that there was someone who just didn't care about others so much, who was wasting so much potential and taking advantage of a gift for the sordid pleasure of adding to his personal body count, it just sickened him.

When, between the crowd, he saw a man shaking his head in disgust, one he knew all too well, the sickening feeling in Ralph's stomach just got out of control.

Sal Malone. His ex, reluctant partner back when he was a CCPD Detective.

In one word, his nightmare.

"Sally! You want to say something, why don't say it to my face?" Ralph chuckled, facing from across the yellow tape the older cop.

"Never had problems speaking my mind in the past, I'm not starting now, Dibny. You want to know what my fucking problem is? Easy: you." He venomously spitted.

"Sal, c'mon…" Joe sighed, trying to move between them, but none of them was looking at him.

"Dibny's a fucking shame, West! The little shit can live his life however he wants, but he better leaves a good cop like you out of his so-called plans!"

"Sal, seriously, you are my friend, but this is none of your business." Joe tried to calm his co-worker.

"I'm almost half your age, but I've always been a better detective than you, and that's what stings, uh Sally? Knowing that the rookie has always been better than you?"

"All right, all right, Ralph, calm down. What the hell is wrong with you today, man?" Cisco asked, as he physically blocked ralph, putting himself between Sal and the former cop.

"Better than me? _Better than me?_ Are you listening, people? He planted evidence, perjured himself on the stand, got Raegan free, and he still thinks that he is a better cop than all of us put together!" Sal laughed, soon joined by other cops present at the scene.

It was the proverbial last straw that broke the camel's back; Ralph escaped Cisco's hold, and punched Sal in the face, and soon both Vibe and Joe were holding him back, almost failing.

Then, he felt her touch on his shoulder, a soft, icy breeze, and when he turned, he saw Caitlin, looking at him with clear worry in her eyes, and an infinite sadness. And so much compassion it just about broke him in half.

He stopped to fight. Just for her. Only for her.

"You have no right to disrespect Ralph, and it certainly isn't your place to decide what Detective west should or shouldn't do and with whom!"

She turned around to face Ralph again, her gentle hand palming his cheek, forcing him to look at her instead of a man who had once been a friend- a partner. "C'mon, Ralph, let's go. I'm driving you home."

Still stealing side-glances to Sal, they left., in complete and utter silence. Even on the drive home, he never said a word. He simply took her hand in his own, over the gearshift, and interlaced their fingers.

He sighed in relief, still not looking at her, but outside the window, as he felt her soft skin. The steady rhythm of her heart. It helped. It calmed him down.

Still, what it didn't help was not knowing what she thought. If he was still the same in his eyes. If Sal's words had somehow changed her opinion of him.

When they reached his apartment, as on autopilot, he walked to his room in the dark, and sat on his bed, still not saying a word, looking into the void that was his existence, a dark place with only one light and one light only.

She sat at his side, and reached out for his hand, interlacing their fingers again, leaning with her head over his shoulder.

He felt her tears wetting his shirt, and it about killed him.

"Ralph…" She whispered his name, almost scared. But not of him. Never of him. "Are you all right?"

He closed his eyes. "No." He admitted. He reached over and brushed the hair away from her face, his fingers barely skimming over her skin.

She looked at him as she was seeing the real Ralph Dibny for the first time, and he allowed her to see all him – his secrets, his pain, his past and his hopes. She kissed him, _really_ kissed him, a kiss that meant something, too much, and he felt the connection, the spark, as never before. His hands stroked gently her face, her cheeks, and with no rush, he laid her down on the bed, still in the dark, and then, he joined Caitlin.

It was her.

It had always been her.

The one and only. His one and only.

That night, they didn't have sex. They just slept, in each other's arms.

And it was the best night of his life.

* * *

He woke up when he felt something amiss, and as soon as he opened his eyes up, Ralph just _knew_ what that missing piece was.

Caitlin. She wasn't where she had been the whole night – naked, spooned with her back against his chest, their breathings just in perfect synch as he felt a peace and a perfection he thought forbidden to a man like him.

The lights were still turned off, and he could barely see her through the light filtering through the blinds, but, still, he had a perfect picture of what was happening.

She was creeping around the room, looking for her things, quickly putting on everything in silence, doing her best to not wake him up.

 _The walk of shame,_ he thought, darkly, fisting his hands in the cold sheets. Enraged – but not her, himself. For having allowed himself to dream. And to hope.

"Why are you leaving?" He asked, already knowing the answers. Hating himself for how broken he sounded, even to his own hears. Hating her for trying to fix something that wasn't broken. For taking the easy way out instead of fighting her own demons.

In the dark, he heard her sighing – and the sound of his heart breaking into his chest, going into a million little pieces.

"Ralph… we need to talk."

"That… doesn't sound too promising" That did it. He broke him beyond repair, defeated him once and for all. He knew what "talking" was coding for. Breaking up. Ending things. Ending their arrangement. Just when he thought they were getting somewhere.

"Ralph, you are a great guy. I really appreciate what you've done for me in the last few months. But I can't keep doing this. I think we should just stop sleeping together."

Nope, apparently he had been mistaken. There was still some little piece of his heart that could be crushed.

"Okay, but… just tell me why!" He demanded, wondering if she could hear how frantic he felt.

"It's not working for me any longer, all right? I don't think that keeping this up could be in our best interests." She hissed, doing her best to just _hurt_ him, and that was when it clicked.

She was hurting him because she didn't want to get hurt. Because she was scared – they had never lazily kissed just for the sake of it, never simply slept and cuddled the whole night in each other's arms. Never openly confronted their demons, comforted each other.

She was scared because she knew it wasn't just sex any longer. Because she had finally understood, finally admitted…. That she cared. And it was just too much for her to handle.

"Why can't you just can't admit that you care about me, Caity?"

She laughed, like he had just said one of his idiocies. "Don't be an idiot, Ralph. Of course I care about you. You are one of my closest friends. And, I really appreciated what you've done for me lately. But I just think we should stop sleeping together. We're blurring the lines, besides, I think we should start seeing other people and…"

"That's not what I meant. What I meant is…" He sighed, defeated, already knowing that it wouldn't have worked. That she wouldn't have listened to him anyway.

But he had to try. He had to tell her, now, the truth. What he felt. What he had always felt, like that first time in her lab years before. He stood up, slowly, feeling old and defeated and just _tired,_ and with tears burning his eyes, he closed the distance between them, and put his hands on her shoulder, holding on to her like for dear life.

"Caity, what I mean is… that you love me. You are _in love_ with me. Just… like I'm love with you. I… I know it's scary, and I understand why you are so scared, but it's okay. I'm scared too. But that's the beauty of it – this way, we can be scared together."

She shook her head, chuckled. Looking at him in the eyes in a way that screamed that she didn't believe him. She couldn't. "You don't love me, Ralph. We just both wanted to escape. From loneliness. Failures. Reality. Let's be honest – even _a dog_ would do."

He glared at her for long, endless minutes, and then he went back to the window, leaning against the frame, one hand on his hip. They both stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, and then, with finality, he turned to face her, and he spoke, with a rage he had rarely felt in his whole life.

"Fine. If this is what you think, you know where the door is. But, Caitlin," He hissed her full name, something he hadn't used, in private, when they were alone, in months. In his arms, she wasn't Doctor Caitlin Snow. She was just Caity, but not any longer. "Caitlin, if you leave now, don't expect me to wait for you like I was _your_ lap dog."

She glared at him from her spot, hands fisted at her sides, teeth clenched. "You know what, Ralph? You are right. I know _exactly_ where the door is. And don't bother waiting for me. I'm not coming back anyway."

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door shout at her back, and Ralph grabbed the first thing he could find and just threw it against the mirror, sending him into pieces. He walked to get them, and when he stepped on the shards, eh didn't feel anything at all, didn't bleed.

Had he been without powers, he would have still felt nothing.

Because that was what he was, what he felt like in that moment.

Like a ghost. A mere shadow.

* * *

He did his best to get her back in the next few days after the "breakup" – trying to talk with her, sending flowers and gifts and so many flowers he had probably filled her apartment to the brim, and trying to talk with her.

He even left her notes, like he was a high school student trying to win the hot cheerleader.

It didn't work. She still did her best to avoid him, and she pretended he didn't exist when they were with the rest of the Team.

It hurt, more than he thought possible. More than it had ever done before. And he knew it was a senseless pain.

 _She_ was hurting, too. He could see it every time he would steal a glance, would see her looking at him with the corner of her eye when she thought he wasn't paying any attention.

But he always did. Because how could he not, when it was about her, the love of his life?

They both needed time. She needed to accept that fear was part of life, and there was nothing written in the stones, and he needed to forgive and forget his broken heart, accept her fear and try to ease her sufferings.

It was hell. Because she was everywhere. Every room he walked in, was it his place or STAR Labs, it reminded him of their times together, of every secret smile, lingering caress, stolen moments and quiet and strangled moans in the privacy of darkened rooms.

So, he gave her room. Time. Space. He stopped to hassle her, be around her the whole time. No more gifts. No more staying together just the two of them, working cases or just waiting for results. No more secret glances.

Caitlin needed breathing room. Time. Needed to feel the distance, how it felt. Because only when she did, she would accept the truth, and face it, headstrong.

She wanted him. Needed him. Was in love with him.

It took weeks, weeks that broke him in ways that he didn't know possible, but then, he started to see the signs, longing, regret, guilt, love, written all over her features whenever he was around. And she would try to speak with him, but there was always something, or someone, and then _fear._

He would have wanted to reach out, take her in his arms and just kiss her senseless, but he didn't. He couldn't. She had taken her decision, if she wanted, needed to change her mind, _she_ had to take the first step.

And then, it happened. He felt the spark, electricity running through his veins, all over his body like never before at her touch.

They were in the lab, after a fight with a brand new meta which hadn't gone too well for both he and Barry, as the mystery man was able to apparently nullify his opponents' powers. He was lying on a stretcher, and Caitlin was taking his blood to make sure that "Leech" – as Cisco had named their latest nemesis – wouldn't have any lasting effects on her friends. Her cheeks were rosy, she was looking at him, almost timidly, her hands delicate and a bit unsure, and yet, every time she would skim over his muscles, he would feel the breath dying in her throat as he was breathing the same air, as they were the same person.

Suddenly, she made a movement she wasn't supposed to, and elbowed a bottle of Talcum powder on a nearby tray, getting the white powdery substance all over his face, making him cough and sneeze. Just like on their first encounter. She panicked a little as she heard him coughing and sneezing, like she was scared that he would break again, just like that first time, and she did her best to frantically get the powder away from his face.

He couldn't help it. He smiled. Of a kind, honest and just plain _beautiful_ smile that he felt was about to turn not just his day, but his whole life around.

She mumbled something incoherent, spun around and, with reddened cheeks, left the room in a hurry. He heard her saying to Cisco and Iris just outside the door, and when she was coming back, less than two minutes later, looking like a kid caught red-handed with her hands in the cookie jar, he devilish grinned at her, and waved, his face still covered with the white powder.

He heard her gasp, and saw her panicking and running away, arms in arms with Iris and Cisco.

He grinned. She was there. Her breaking point. Ready to finally accept that he had been right all along.

He quickly cleaned his face, checked to make sure there was no powder left on his suit, wanting to look good enough for her, and took away every needle and tube and tourniquet and cable he was attached to, and stood, on shaky legs.

"What are you doing, man? Cisco and Caitlin aren't done with us yet…" Barry mumbled. He was covering his eyes with one hand, as the light would hurt his eyes.

"Sorry, Rookie, I have a very important thing to do."

"Yeah, well, if you drop dead you'll not do anything at all, Ralph. Just, shout up and go back on your stretcher, will you?"

"Nope, no can do, Allen. My whole life depends on that. But, if you don't call anyone right now, I promise you that, when the time will come, you'll be my first choice for best man."

Ralph didn't even wait for Barry to say something, or remember him that as Allen was practically his only friend, and Ralph was an only child, of course Allen was his _one and only c_ hoice when it came to best-manning, and he simply followed the sound of Caitlin's voice through the almost empty STAR Labs corridors.

When he heard the most hideous sound in the world, he just sopped, scared to death of what he would hear next.

She was crying. Because of him.

"Ralph's so…he can be such a cretin, and he is irritating, and self-centered, but…but he makes my heart race, and my head spin. And when I'm with him, I can be myself. He gets me. He really does. And he still wants me. Me… just like I am."

"Uh, I'm so sorry if I'm about to sound like a broken record, but, Caitlin, if he makes you feel good, what's the damn problem?" Cisco asked, sounding slightly irritated. Or maybe annoyed by the whole ordeal.

"Because he is completely wrong for me!"

"Or, is he?" Iris asked. "I mean, shouldn't you do what just makes you happy, instead of looking for something that would be safer, but just not as real as what you and Ralph share? Besides, Caitlin, I've seen the way he looks at you."

"I don't know…." She sighed, sounded a little unsure, and Ralph felt happiness surging through him.

She wasn't cry because of him.

She had been crying _for_ him!

"Caitlin, sweetie, don't fool yourself. I've been noticing how you secretly smiled at Ralph for months. How you would blush whenever he would look at you or he would touch you by accident. It's the same way Barry and I look at each other. Caitlin… you are in love with Ralph, just admit it already."

"Yes, I do." She whispered, and Ralph swore he could hear her smiling, could feel the relief and the happiness in her voice.

He couldn't resist any longer. He had to show up, tell her everything, that he had been listening, repeat again his confession of love, this time for the world to see and hear.

"I'm so glad to hear you saying it!" He said with a broken voice, taking a step forward in her direction. . "Oh, Caity… you have no idea how much I've missed you…"

She shook her head, marching on towards him. "I thought… You said you couldn't wait for me." She murmured. She was crying, her make-up was coming undone, she looked like a raccoon with the mascara and the eyeshadow smearing her face, and yet, she still was the most beautiful and sweet creature he had ever laid eyes on.

And she wanted him. _Him!_

Ralph took the last few steps that were separating them, and he smiled – sweet, honest, happy – never stopping to look into those eyes that had stolen his heart little by little, becoming the sole center of his whole life, his unique purpose.

He took her hands into his, rubbing his rough thumbs over her delicate and soft knuckles, and he shook his head. "I'll always wait for you, Caity, no matter what I say."

She whispered his name, a prayer on her lips, and she cried some more, her tears mixing with his as they quickly kissed, her arms around his neck, holding onto him like for dear life.

"Let's do this right, this time. I want to go an dates, nice dates, and tell people. Tell everyone. Even our mothers, eventually."

He chuckled, clicking his tongue against his palate. "Yes, absolutely. Whatever you want." He laced their fingers together. "I'd do anything for you."

And then, he kissed her some more. Just for good measure. Just because he could.

Just to show the world that he couldn't be such a loser, if he had landed Caitlin Snow.

* * *

They had been working nonstop on finding where Caitlin's father had disappeared to for weeks now. The days passed, the evidence piled up, and yet, they were getting nowhere. It was like, suddenly, he had disappeared from the face of Earth. And yet, if he was alive, and asking for his daughter to go and find him, he _had_ to be somewhere, right? Besides, he had the same powers as his daughter – how came that on the wall of crazy that was their lives nobody had ever met Mr. Icicle?

Ralph grunted, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He was tired, and even his proverbial sense of humor was starting to fail him. When had he started being the one naming meta-human, uh?And besides, _Icicle?_ It sounded like some made-up villain from WWII, and definitely not the caring and funny man Caitlin described him.

He played thoughtless with a piece of paper, thinking back to what he knew about him. He was sure that Caitlin's dad- maybe it was time to start calling him with his own name, Thomas - wouldn't have liked him. Fathers rarely liked their daughters' significant others, but with him things were a little bit more complicated.

Yes, he was a super-hero. Yes, he cared about Caitlin more than he did himself. But… but, there was also the matter of his chequered past. Fabricated evidence. Perjury. Being kicked out of the force. The womanizing. The blackmails. Intellectually, he knew that Caitlin deserved so much more than what he was and could aspire to be, but he was too self-centered, too egotist to even just _think_ about letting it go of her.

Besides, for some unknown reason, _she_ was the one wanting him, and who was he to deny his lady her heart's desire?

"Oh, it's your birth certificate! You think it could be of any help?" He asked when he noticed what he was actually thoughtlessly playing with. He stared at it, and sighed, studying the calligraphy of her parents, their names written in black ink, a little smeared, like they had use a fountain pen – her mother, elegant, not something people would associate to a scientist, her father, quick, almost a doodle.

"You and Wells did tell me to bring everything I could find on my dad…" He could hear the tiredness in her voice – for the late hours they were pulling, and for being, still, nowhere. He was about to either give her back a massage or pretending to be _just_ an idiot and so something so silly she would have laughed so much so to start crying, when he noticed a particular that had previously escaped his attention.

Next to Caitlin, there was another name written. "Your middle name is…. Susan?" He asked, surprised.

He wasn't sure his Caitlin looked anything like a Susan.

(Or maybe she did. _Think about the Invisible Woman, Ralph! She is a petite blonde who looks oh so innocent, and yet she kicks asses_!)

Caitlin blushed, in that lovely way he adored and couldn't have enough of. She was a living paradox. She didn't need to be Killer Frost to be thought, she was strong and determined and she didn't take any bullshit- especially his – and yet, the smallest compliment, or even just the sound of her name, and she blushed, like a delicate and ethereal creature.

And all because _he_ was the one saying those words. He still couldn't believe his luck. That she wanted him. That she loved him. That he got to whisper and moan her name on her skin night after night.

"Oh, Ralph, please, I don't want to think about that! I _hated_ that name. Back when I was in school, the other kids used to tease me and call me Sue… I hated it. I really, really hated it."

He let her have her birth certificate, and when she smiled a sad smile, he wondered what was going through her mind – she was probably wondering what they had been feeling when they had signed that document up, if they were still in love with each other, of if she had been a desperate attempt to save a failing marriage on the verge of collapse (like he had been).

He chuckled. Susan. Sue. She didn't like it, and yet he thought it was a beautiful name.

He absent-mindedly played with the small black velvet box in his jacket pocket, thinking and dreaming about things to come. It was too much, and too soon, and she deserved so much more, but he had taken a chance at him and he wanted to prove to Caitlin that he could be her knight in shining armor. Or maybe not – she didn't need a knight, she was a warrior herself. All she needed was a partner, and he would have been just that for her.

The soft fabric tickled the palm of his hand, and he started to imagine, to try out, how her name would have sounded like, were the love of his life willingly to hold onto him forever and ever.

 _Caitlin Snow-Dibny. Susan Snow-Dibny. Sue- Snow-Dibny. It's just adorable. It's just… so perfect. Even better than Caity Snow-Dibny._

It sounded… just perfect. Marvelous. So much so that it was like someone else had come out with that – maybe a writer.

It sounded like possibilities and futures and dreams.

It sounded like destiny.

FIN.


End file.
